


Blown Away

by goldenrazzmatazz



Series: Imagine Supernatural [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Child Neglect, Crowley is a good father and nobody would imagine it, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 19:31:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1911012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenrazzmatazz/pseuds/goldenrazzmatazz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Could you write a oneshot where the readers family were killed after her parents made a deal with Crowley, and he adopts her and she is kinda like his badass hunter assassin type thing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blown Away

  _The man stood in the walkway in front of the house, silent as can be. He stood, listening to the man's screams, and snarling of the beasts. He listened, satisfied, as the man repaid the debt that was owed._

_It wasn’t required of him to come and watch the carnage that was the compensation of the deal made exactly ten years ago, but he preferred it that way. He enjoyed seeing what his clients had chosen to do with their lives once they had sold their souls._

_Although, when he had first arrived at the house he was unsure that it was even the house of the man who had wished for a million dollars a decade ago. The house was old, paint peeling and the roof caving in. He could see, even from this distance, the cracks in the front windows and the rips in the siding of the house._

_He sighed audibly as he felt the shifting of the planks beneath him when he crossed the porch. The house was a disaster, a wish wasted in his opinion. Why trade the only real valuable thing you have for something as common as money, and then choose to live in such a dump?_

_Of course, he already knew the answer to that, because Crowley liked to keep an eye on his clients. The man, Mr. (y/l/n), has chosen to spend his money at the bar or gambling, and had spent most of it in less than three years._

_It was idiocy. Although, even if it did bother Crowley, he couldn’t do anything about it. There was no reason to, anyway. Crowley already had what he needed, the mans soul, so why did he care?_

_It was a question he asked himself as he crossed the threshold, examining the scene._

_There was the usual bloodshed, Mr. Millionaire had put up quite a fight, leaving blood and broken furniture discarded around the front room, but Crowley knew the man would have been no match for the hellhound that had been sent._

_For a moment, Crowley wondered where that hellhound could be, when his thoughts were brought to the corpse of the young woman laying on the couch._

_She was of slight build, not very tall, and a mane of straight blond hair that swept across her back._

_Or, would be straight and blond, if it wasn’t knotted and matted with dried blood._

_Crowley noticed, as he stepped closer, that the woman hadn’t been killed in the crossfire between hellhound and man. No, in fact it seemed that she had been dead for several days._

_“Wifebeater.” Crowley noted to himself, walking by the body. It was something he would have to mention to Alaister when he returned to hell. There were special treatments on the rack for those who were abusive, and he knew Alaister loved to administer them._

_He continued to venture through the home, walking to the second floor (each and every stepped creaked and groaned just like the porch), when he found the mans body._

_Juliet had really done her job well. He was shredded. Crowley couldn’t help but allow a small smile to cross his features at the thought of the man dying. He leaned forward and examined the wounds his pet had inflicted, when he heard the noise._

_It wasn’t too loud, and had there been any other noise in the house to distract him he wouldn’t have heard it at all, but he did. A child’s laugh. Not just any child, he knew at once, but a baby._

_He quickly strided to the room at the end of the hall, and pushed the door open._

_There, sitting on what must have been the woman's bed, lay his hellhound, curled around a little pink bundle of fabric. He gingerly approached the beast, reaching over it’s limbs to pick up the now orphaned child. He held her in his arms, and pushed the blanket away to see the girls face._

_He hadn’t felt any real emotion in centuries, but the second he saw her face, he felt it. It was a pang deep in his chest that he hadn’t felt since the first time he had held his son, Gavin._

_“Well, what do we have here?” He murmured, rocking the child in his arms._

_She opened her eyes, wide and shining and reached for him, unable to reach. She let out a small giggle and squirmed in his arms, earning a smile from the crossroads demon._

_“Do you have a name, love?” He asked, smiling as she cooed at him, at pulled away to look around the room._

_“You’re all alone now, aren’t you? Nobody here, that’s my fault, that is.” He said, looking down at the hellhound._

_“Well, I can’t just leave her here, Juliet. She’ll die.” He said, as if to convince it of his actions. The dog simply stared back at him, before putting her head on her legs and going to sleep._

_“Stupid dog,” Crowley growled, before turning back to you, “You know, I’ll take good care of you. Better than your parents could give. I promise.”_

Twenty years later, and Crowley had kept true to his promise. You were the only person, human and demon alike, that he considered his family.

He had named you (y/n), after some story he had heard throughout the years. He couldn’t remember what the character did, or what they were even from, but he thought the name suited you, even if he had told you on your tenth birthday you could change your name if you wished.

You hadn’t, but you were comforted by the thought he was so willing to let you do what you wanted to make yourself comfortable. Although, you weren’t surprised. By the time you were fifteen you had already been pierced a few times, and had several tattoos, (including the anti-possession tattoo, even though he had assured you that if any demon tried to possess you they would be on the rack for the rest of eternity), but he truly was the perfect parent.

Although, he wasn’t too pleased by your choice to become a hunter. You did ask him for permission before you left to hunt anything, and you always made sure it was something that was either creating suspicion from the humans, or bothering your him, but he still worried. He made you bring Juliet with you, just as an added precaution.

Even with your ‘Dad’ as you called him, watching over your every move, you still loved hunting, and you were pretty good at it. With the help of Juliet, you could take down almost anything. You had everything from vampires to dragons under your belt.

Yes, dragons. To your surprise and relief, when you had explained to Crowley how you had managed to hunt one down without being attacked, he had laughed and given you a pat on the back. You figured he was relieved he hadn’t had to give you ‘The Talk’.

    You adored Crowley, he was really the only parental figure you had. You understood what had happened to your own parents, he had never tried to hide his role in their death, yet you still cared for him. You truly believed that his role as a crossroads demon was a necessary one.

    Which was why when he disappeared, you were desperate to find him.

    You weren’t stupid, you knew what he was hiding from. Lucifer. Crowley was one of the only demons who really understood the angels opinions on demons, so he was hiding from the devil. You were still worried though.

    You had been tracking him for months, when you met Sam and Dean.

    You already knew who they were, your father made sure to keep you up to date on the Hunters that you could encounter. When you met them in the middle of a vampire nest, you and Dean had both swung machetes at the same vampire nest, you told them you were searching for the King Of The Crossroads himself. You didn’t reveal to them your relation to him, but you told them enough to trust you, you had entered the life after your parents had died, and you needed Crowley to find the only parental figure you had.

    Not exactly a lie, as he was that parental figure.

    “(y/n), you can stay with us, if you want. Until you find Fergus.” Sam had offered when you told them you wanted to part ways. You had declined, but exchanged contact information, incase they heard anything about Crowley.

    You hadn’t heard anything from the boys for weeks, except a drunken text from Dean asking for a bootycall, which you declined politely enough, until Sam called you one morning.

    “We have Crowley.”

    You were in the middle of a hunt, a djinn which had so far taken three lives, but you dropped everything and drove straight to the location Sam had given.

    It took you less than two hours, probably because you never drove less than a hundred miles per hour, but you got there. Right in the middle of Dean torturing Crowley for information.

    He was tied to a chair, and as you walked in you could see the devils trap painted above him.

    “(y/n),” Dean greeted as you walked in, “We found the Sonofabitch! When I’m done, you can take a swing or two. Maybe you’ll hear about Fergus.”

    You allowed yourself a single glance at Crowley, and immediately saw through his carefully placed mask, showing the extent of the pain he was in. Your stomach turned, and you simply nodded, examining the room. You nodded to yourself as you counted the exits, and played out the scenarios in your head.

    Neither Dean nor Sam gave you a second glance when you walked over to Sam, who had been standing near the far door. Crowley, on the other hand, noticed immediately that you were planning something, and began cursing rather loudly at Dean.

    You approached Sam carefully, not wanting to alert him of the coming danger, until you reached up and grabbed his shoulder carefully. He looked down at you, eyebrow raising in the unspoken question when your knee shot up and connected with his groin. He let out a sharp cry of pain as he bent over and you pulled your knife from its sheath and held it in front of his neck.

    “Let him go Dean, or Sammy gets it.” You spoke evenly, pressing the blade into Sam’s neck, drawing a line of blood.

    “What the hell? (y/n)?” Dean asked, frowning and taking a step in your direction.

    “Now, Dean.” You replied, pushing the blade farther into Sam’s neck.

    “Okay, just don’t hurt him.” Dean let out a huff of air, before scratching the devils trap with his knife, breaking the seal.

    Crowley stood, turned and smiled to you, before walking to you.

    “Thank you, darling. Next time, if you could be a little quicker, that’d be wonderful.” Crowley smiled as he stopped in front of you, receiving an eyeroll.

    “Well, somebody's been hiding from me for months.” You replied, laughing.

    “(y/n), you’re banging Crowley?” Dean shouted, earning a look of disgust from both you and the Demon.

    “You knuckleheads don’t understand anything, do you? Crowley’s my Dad, dumbass.” You shot back,

    “Calm, (y/n),” Crowley whispers, “lets just get out of here, alright?”

    You nodded once, releasing the younger Winchester as Crowley snapped and teleported the two of you to safety.

    “Did she say, that Crowley was her Dad?” Dean asked, appalled.

    “I, I think so.” Sam groaned, still hunched over.

    “Hm,” Dean shrugged, “Who knew.”

**Author's Note:**

> Aye, I really liked this idea, and I'm totally up for writing a sequel if anyone is interested :)  
> Please tell me what you think below! :D


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